


i could make you happy, make your dreams come true (no there's nothing that i wouldn't do)

by angelica_barnes



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anorexia, Break Up, Declarations Of Love, Eating Disorders, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Getting Back Together, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, Multi, References to Drugs, Self-Acceptance, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, everyone being happy and in love (by the end, it's a wild ride to get there)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 18:31:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17965847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelica_barnes/pseuds/angelica_barnes
Summary: having a fling with a straight boy is never a good thing. (and when some time later, nick kicks some pebbles with his hands in his pockets as he walks cal home after their first date, he doesn’t kiss him at the door but cal’s in love with him and nothing has ever felt truer.)loving a girl who doesn’t love herself is the hardest thing. but garrett does love leah, and he will love her, and he’ll spend forever trying to make her feel the same about herself. and he writes her love letters and she burns them and he can see the smoke rising up through her chimney but when he climbs up onto her balcony and knocks on the door she still lets him in.abby’s addicted to drugs but no one can tell, she was always happy anyway. but now there’s taylor and she won’t smoke or do meth but she’ll sit with abby while she does and her parents will never approve of her smoke-filled kisses with this strawberry-lipped girl but they’re in love and so it’s okay.falling back in love with your ex-boyfriend over email is stupid. their whole love story is stupid. their whole life is stupid, but that doesn’t mean you’ll stop loving him. this is what bram tells himself in the mirror everyday before school.





	i could make you happy, make your dreams come true (no there's nothing that i wouldn't do)

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from "Make You Feel My Love" by Adele
> 
> based off :
> 
> Wild - Troye Sivan  
> Someone To You - Banners  
> For Now - P!NK  
> Little Things - One Direction  
> Never Be The Same - Camila Cabello  
> Run To You - Whitney Houston  
> If My Heart Was A House - Owl City  
> Same Love - Macklemore ft. Ryan Lewis & Mary Lambert  
> Dancing On My Own - Calum Scott  
> Happier - Marshmello ft. Bastille

 

 

 

Don’t fall in love with straight boys. That’s the number one rule of being a bisexual teenage male. Because they won’t love you back and if that isn’t just the biggest pain in the ass ever.

But Nick Eisner.

He’s just so perfect. He’s kind and sweet, and god, that voice. Cal would kill to have Nick whisper his name in that raspy low falsetto as he kisses down his collarbone. He won’t, but when Cal’s daydreaming, the real Nick’s feelings for him are irrelevant.

Today, though, when Nick grabs his hand and pulls him down the hall towards the janitor’s closet, his movements are stiff and angry, and he’s silent. Cal knows then that today he’s being used to help Nick forget about someone else. Sure enough, as soon as the door’s shut behind them, Nick pulls Cal against him and kisses him hard.

Cal lets him, for the briefest of moments, but then he gently presses his hand flat against Nick’s bare chest and pushes him back, whispering his name.

“Nick,” Nick touches his lips to Cal’s cheekbone, “Nick. Please. Stop. Stop.”

He does, of course, pulling back to look Cal in the eye, and god if that doesn’t make everything so perfectly worse. Why’s he gotta be such a gentleman about everything all the time? It’d be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t.

Cal lifts his hand and touches Nick’s face, “Hey. Hey. What’s going on?”

Nick swats Cal’s hand away and Cal lets it fall to his side, pushing down the tightness in his chest.

“Is this about Abby?” He asks softly. “Or Leah?”

Nick shakes his head and scowls. “No. And don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you love me. There’s no talking or feelings in this arrangement, Price. That’s the deal.”

Well. Cal can’t deny he has those, and for Nick, no doubt. But he keeps his mouth shut. He knows better.

“Okay. Sorry.”

This time, Cal kisses him, and if Nick notices Cal’s crying, he doesn’t mention it.

(Cal never does learn what had made Nick so mad. Sad. Sad mad.)

 

 

-

 

Simon and Bram are undeniably made for each other. Even with Nick’s seeming disapproval, his glares which would later be determined as jealousy across the table at them and Leah’s cynical ‘all couples break up eventually’ speech and Abby’s over-excitement and Taylor’s lack of filter, they make it work, and are so in love it’s sickening.

Which is why it’s so shocking when their Facebook statuses change to single over break and they both come to school with bags under their eyes and Bram switches lunch tables and they both stab at their food like somehow it could kill these ugly feelings twisting in their stomachs, because obviously eating won’t make it any better.

But neither has broken down crying. They act so stupidly normal it’s almost scary. Soft smiles and moony-eyed Simon Spier and soft eyes and soccer calves Bram Greenfeld still say hi in the halls, and have conversations about homework and such, and everybody watches, baffled. They simply don’t understand.

Until one day, Simon Spier walks into lunch holding Cal Price’s hand. Everyone’s eyes follow them across the floor, and then…

A loud sob breaks the silence, and all heads turn to watch as Bram Greenfeld stands abruptly and bolts from the cafeteria in tears.

The only pair of eyes not watching are moon-grey.

 

 

-

 

When asked about Bram’s breakdown in the lunchroom, Garrett simply smiles and makes a joke and walks away. It’s not any of their business, so they can keep their questions to themselves. Still, he is Bram’s best friend, and so that’s why he ends up walking to the bathroom and dragging a blank Bram to his car. As he’s turning the key in the ignition, he sees Leah, and squeezes his best friend’s hand quickly before getting out of the car and running over to the girl.

She glares up at him, cynical as usual. She may be his on and off girlfriend, but mostly she’s mad at him. Even if she does love him.

“Hey, Lee,” he whispers. “I’m gonna have to cancel today. Bram is…”

“A mess,” Leah finishes for him with a scowl. “Yeah. I know. Simon broke up with him over vacation because of some fight they kept having and his budding feelings for Cal.”

Garrett sighs. “Yeah. Well, to say Bram’s upset would be an understatement.”

Leah nods, but doesn’t spare him a smile. “Fine. Go.”

He grins and leans down to kiss her, receiving a wrinkled nose and sparkling eyes in response. “Thanks. I love you!”

She rolls her eyes, but he can see the tell-tale crinkles by her eyes and he knows she’s smiling. He runs back to the car and gets inside, where Bram sits, and he puts a hand on his best friend’s back, expression turning somber.

“Hey. How’re you feeling?”

Bram lets out a sound somewhere between a cruel laugh and a choke and a harsh sob, and mumbles, “I don’t even know.”

 

 

-

 

Nick Eisner is straight. Very straight. Also very male. So what is up with these butterflies in his stomach whenever Cal smiles at him?

Their arrangement is for whenever Leah’s with Garrett or he’s feeling especially angry at Abby for her latest drug shenanigans. And Cal had agreed, because like anybody else he gets frustrated and Nick needed somebody and so did Cal and so here they are.

Except now Cal has Simon, and he doesn’t need Nick anymore, no matter how desperately Nick still needs him.

“Cal,” Nick whispers, catching the boy on his way out of the building and by the hand, “Cal.”

But Cal just pulls his hand away and keeps on walking. Nick chases after him, stumbling and sliding on the wet grass under his feet.

“Cal!”

This time, Cal whips around to face him, and though his eyes are mostly angry, they hold clouds of sadness as well.

“Nick. What do you want?”

His voice is so gentle, his tone so concerned, even with the underlying fury. Nick swallows and reaches out to touch the blonde’s face, and Cal lets him, but only for a moment before he pushes the other away.

“I -” Nick starts, then pauses, voice catching. “I thought we were…”

Cal’s mouth drops open in surprise, but a moment later he recovers, sighing. “Thought we were what, Nick? Dragging someone into a closet and fucking them to forget about your problems isn’t a relationship. I have no obligation to you.”

Nick looks down at his feet and fidgets with his fingers, wanting so badly to wrap them around Cal’s, but he knows it would be too forward. And unwelcome.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Cal steps forward and lifts Nick’s chin so the taller one looks him in the eye, “Hey. What is it?”

Nick opens his mouth and closes it, then opens it again and whispers, “I… am… I am…”

Cal waits patiently.

“... in love with you. I think.”

Cal sighs, but wraps his arms around Nick’s neck and hugs him tight. “Come here.”

Nick puts his arms around Cal’s waist and holds him flush against him. He squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in Cal’s shoulder, trying to breathe steady.

“I love you,” Cal whispers, voice muffled by Nick’s jacket. “I do. But I’m with Simon now.”

He pulls back and presses a hand to Nick’s cheek, kissing him softly one last time and then smiling at him sadly.

“I’m sorry. But you had your chance.”

And then he turns and runs, and Nick just stands there in the rain, dripping wet with his lips and eyes stinging.

The salt of his tears mix with the rain.

 

 

-

 

Nick’s acting weird. Simon’s not really sure what’s wrong with his best friend, and that should probably bother him, but right now he’s just getting lost in Cal’s kisses, which seem to be getting sadder and sadder as strange as that sounds.

“Are you okay?” Simon asks, and Cal pulls back to smile at him tiredly.

“Yeah. Just… I don’t know. Are you?”

Simon presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s lips and replies softly, “Not really. But I guess you aren’t either.”

Cal chuckles quietly and lays his head on Simon’s chest. “No.”

They lie in silence for a little while, and then Simon laughs, his body shaking beneath Cal’s head. His boyfriend sits up smiling, “What’s up?”

Simon just runs his fingers through Cal’s hair and whispers, “Nothing. Just… this.”

From the doorway of Simon’s room, Bram watches, hope sinking deep down below the pads of his toes. He turns and runs out the door without even saying goodbye to Mrs. Spier, stops right in the middle of the street and screams.

Garrett comes and takes him home.

 

 

-

 

Abby used to be a good girl. She was, really, innocent and happy and not doing meth, but then her dad happened and the move happened and now she’s here, hiding behind a bike rack behind the school and smoking a cigarette.

Usually no one finds her. Nobody even goes back here, anyway. But apparently Taylor’s making rounds.

Abby isn’t really ready to deal with her and her unintentionally offensive comments, but Taylor’s silent as she approaches her.

“Hey,” she whispers. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”

“What?” Abby snarks. She used to be peppy, cheerful, always having a sweet compliment on the tip of her tongue for whoever happened to be passing by, but now she’s like this. Like Leah. “The skipping class or the drugs?”

Taylor shrugs and sits down beside her, playing with the tiny petals of a dandelion. “Both.”

Abby coughs on the last bit of smoke escaping her lips and flicks the cigarette butt to the side. She pats the grass around it, keeping the embers from starting anything, and Taylor watches her silently.

“Why are you out here? You have math.”

Taylor shrugs and doesn’t ask how Abby knows that. “Yeah. So? You’re skipping class too, y’know.”

Abby tries to keep herself from smiling, but one quirks up the corners of her lips anyway. “I know.”

Taylor reaches over and weaves her fingers through Abby’s, and smiles back.

“Be careful not to get caught.”

She squeezes Abby’s hand and then lets go, and stands up and moves to leave.

“You aren’t gonna tell me to stop?” Abby asks, astonished and a little bit in love. Taylor turns back and smiles, brown eyes sparkling.

“I know you won’t if I do,” she answers, and Abby watches her go. She then digs her hand into the back pocket of her jeans and tugs out the pack of cigarettes, throws them back behind her and walks away, pasting her lips with strawberry chapstick.

 

 

-

 

Bram may be a mess, but he’s a neat mess. Always. And it’s freaky, almost, the care with which he talks to Simon and Cal, to act as if nothing is wrong at all. He’s even started sitting with them again at lunch, and he’s fine, really, he’s fine.

Except he’s not, and everybody knows it, even though nobody says it. Because he’s been eating less, talking less (even for Bram), and when he smiles, it’s tired.

And then one day, that all changes. Bram sits up straight and grins so wide it looks like it hurts and eats his whole lunch and he doesn’t talk, but that’s because he’s too busy staring off into space with mooney eyes.

Simon looks slightly hurt, but quickly covers it up before anyone but Garrett sees, and soon everyone’s asking Bram who this new guy is that’s making him blush so hard. Bram just shrugs and stands up and walks out of the room, smiling at his phone.

“Huh,” Abby says. She looks like she hasn’t slept in days, but her smile is genuine and there are no white flecks in her nose, so nobody comments. “Wonder who it is.”

Nick grumbles something under his breath, and Cal turns to look at him worriedly, as if he and Nick have ever talked. But maybe they have, because as soon as Nick notices Cal’s eyes on him, he bolts out of the cafeteria, and Cal kisses Simon’s cheek and whispers something in his ear and then follows. Abby just sighs and leans into Taylor’s side, who’s come to sit with them, and soon she’s snoring softly and Taylor blushes faintly. Then leans down and takes Abby’s hand, gently jerking her awake and pulling her out of the room. (Leah’s not here today, which sucks, but seeing all this affection really makes Garrett want to kiss her.)

Garrett leans across the table as soon as they’re alone and whispers to Simon, “Hey, man. You okay?”

Simon swallows and nods, then murmurs, “I miss him.”

Garrett sighs, nodding, but his voice is firm when he speaks again, however gentle as well. “I know. And I’m sorry. But you can’t try and get him back, not unless you really, really mean it. Because he was,  _ is _ a mess because of you and I am not going to let you ruin him again.”

Simon nods silently and Garrett pats his shoulder, getting up and turning to leave. “Great. Well. Bye, man. Sorry.”

As soon as he’s out of the room, Simon plunks his head down into his arms and cries.

 

 

-

 

“What was up with you at lunch today?” Garrett says, not missing the way Bram has been blushing at his phone for the past five minutes. “Whoever this dude is, you are so whipped.”

Bram smiles down at his hands. “His pseudo name is Jacques. We’ve been emailing for a few days.”

Garrett nods slowly, and then tries, “So are you over Simon, then?”

The grin falls off Bram’s face so fast it’s almost like it was never there, and Garrett can see the tears glistening in Bram’s eyes. His best friend looks down and bites his lip, suddenly seeming limp and lifeless.

“No. I’ll never be over Simon. I love him so much it hurts, but at least I know Jacques might actually have feelings for me. So I’m giving him a chance.”

Garrett nods again and pushes down his own feelings of doubt, because it’s making him queasy, and pats Bram’s back.

“Okay. Sorry. Thanks for telling me.”

Bram offers a weak smile, but his eyes have a tiny bit of twinkle in them, even if they are hidden behind the tears, and so no matter how he may feel about this, Garrett vows to himself that he will hope and pray to whoever’s up there that things work out for Bram with Jacques.

 

 

-

 

Taylor comes back, which Abby certainly didn’t expect. But whatever, she’s grateful, and she never expects anything good to happen to her anyway, so a pretty and nice girl coming to visit her is just not in her mind’s capability to create.

It isn’t too long before Taylor plucks the cigarette from between Abby’s lips and drops it to the ground, stamping it out with the heel of her converse.

“Hey!”

“That’s enough, Abby,” Taylor’s voice is gentle but stern, “if you’re going to keep smoking, until I can convince you to stop, then you’re only going to do so for about ten minutes each day.”

Abby rolls her eyes, but doesn’t argue; instead, she leans forward and wraps her arms around Tayor’s neck, pressing her mouth softy onto the other girl’s.

“Thank you,” she murmurs when she pulls away, and turns to leave, happy that for once the butterflies are from a kiss instead of coke, even if the feelings are unrequited. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She won’t, because tonight she’s going to throw herself off a bridge, but before she does, she’ll think back to the kiss a million times and wonder what her life would’ve been like, if she hadn’t fucked it up so badly.

 

 

-

 

Unless you’re in a movie or dreaming, when you open the door, the last thing you expect to see is your ex-boyfriend standing awkwardly on the steps, shuffling his feet with his hands in his pockets and unable to look you in the eye. That just doesn’t happen. Especially not to people like Bram ( _ nerdy, unwanted, worthless _ ).

But here he is, Simon, staring at the ground like there’s something interesting there when Bram knows there’s really nothing but cement. Not even a welcome mat.

“Hi,” he finally says, dumbstruck, his voice soft and shy, and Simon looks up and smiles at him. Bram ignores the clench in his chest and opens the door all the way for Simon to come in, which he does, a faint blush starting to spread across his cheeks. Bram closes the door behind him and rests his forehead against it for the briefest moment, breathing in deep. (There’s no precedent for what to do when your ex that you’re still madly in love with shows up for no reason.)

“Why’re you here?”

Well, that sounded rude. He should probably rephrase that.

“I mean, um, how can I help you?”

It sounds uncertain, and Bram feels his face flush. He doesn’t know how to hide his feelings, that’s always been blatantly obvious; it’s one of the reasons he hardly speaks. Simon just laughs quietly.

“The English project? Mr. Wise assigned us as partners, and I texted you to say I was coming over to work on it.”

Bram checks his phone and sure enough, there it is,  _ I’m coming over so we can work on the project. _

“Thanks for asking,” Bram jokes, and Simon blushes.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve. I didn’t think that through -”

“Simon.” His ex-boyfriend looks up at him through hooded eyelashes and  _ god _ , Bram wants to die.  _ Think about Jacques, _ he tells himself.  _ Think about Jacques. _

“It’s okay. You’re right, we should work on the project.”

Simon seems to sag in relief. Bram feels his cheeks warm. Being near Simon always does that to him, and if he makes Simon feel better in any way, that just makes it worse, because then he gets this hot feeling in his gut that now he has to push down with,  _ Stop, he doesn’t want you, he’s not yours anymore, _ which just all around really sucks.

Simon stops at the doorway to Bram’s room. Waiting for Bram to open it, he guesses. And that’s something Bram suddenly finds incredibly sad.

He pretends it’s fine and that he doesn’t feel the sinking feeling spreading all the way to his toes,  _ Think about Jacques. Think about Jacques. _

“You can open it yourself, y’know,” he murmurs. “It’s not locked.”

Simon looks surprised, then masks it and shrugs. “I thought it might be. For me, anyway.”

Bram swallows and chooses not to respond, and instead follows his ex-boyfriend into his room where they settle on his bed. And Bram can’t stop thinking about how the last time they were in here, Simon was his and everything was okay and Bram could love him and actually say it and life didn’t suck and his perfect, smiling with moon-grey eyes, beautiful, smart, loving “friend” in front of him was something way more.

“You’re staring.”

Simon interrupts Bram’s self-pity rant to point this out and Bram blushes and looks back down at his paper.

_ Jacques. Jacques. _

“I miss you sometimes, y’know?”

Bram looks up at the sound of Simon’s voice and frowns.

“Don’t say that, Simon.”

“Why not?”

“Because you have Cal,” Bram says, and his tone is getting lower and angrier and wow, he really needs to put a stop to this conversation -

“Because you dumped me,” Bram continues, because now that he’s started he can’t shut up. “Because we’re not friends. Because I am trying to move on from you, and you’re making that really fucking hard!”

Simon is silent, looking down at the thread he’s picking on his jeans.

“And?” He whispers, accepting the blame like he really believes he deserves it all.

Bram crumbles, just like his heart, which Garrett has spent so long trying to tape up and fit together the pieces of but Oreos and movies and sleepovers don’t make everything better (contrary to popular belief, including Bram’s before he fell in love with Simon Spier) and all Bram wants is Simon and he can’t remember Jacques, not right now. Not like this.

“So. Fucking. Hard, Simon. I’m trying,  _ so _ .  _ Fucking _ .  _ Hard _ .”

And then he can feel the tears start to roll down his cheeks, and he wipes at them furiously, embarrassed that he’s  _ breaking down about his ex-boyfriend in front of his ex-boyfriend. _ Simon reaches out and pulls Bram into his arms, holding him tightly but gently and running his fingers through Bram’s hair. Bram buries his face in Simon’s neck and tries not to think about how his pale skin smells like strawberries and those cigarettes that Cal used to smoke, probably still does.

And then he pulls away, folds his hands in his lap and whispers, “I think you should go.”

He doesn’t look up, even when Simon asks him to, only feels the kiss pressed to the side of his head and hears footsteps and then his door closing.

He falls back onto his bed and closes his eyes.

_ Think about Jacques. Think about Jacques. _

 

 

-

 

Simon and him have been dating for five months at this point. I mean, they’re dating, but it’s not really all that serious. They like each other, but they’re both distracted most of the time.

“You okay?” Cal asks, and Simon looks up from his phone. He’s smiling, but his eyes have guilt in them. Cal doesn’t feel the need to ask. After all, he’s still hung up on Nick (not that Simon knows that).

“Yeah. I’m emailing this guy named Blue,” Simon says, sweet and soft. “He’s… nice.”

Cal smiles. “Cool. Can I see?”

Simon grins at his boyfriend’s non-judgemental acceptance of Simon’s online friend and hands over the phone. Cal scrolls through the emails quickly and his eyes flash with something like recognition. He gives Simon his phone back with a shaky smile.

“Seems like a great guy,” he says. Simon cocks his head.

“Are you jealous?”

Cal seems to hesitate.

“No,” he finally settles for, and Simon can somehow tell that he’s telling the truth.

Later that day, Bram opens the door to his ex-boyfriend’s new boyfriend.

“Hey, Cal -”

“Does Simon know it’s you?”

“What?”

“Blue. You’re Blue. Does Simon know that?”

“Please tell me you aren’t Jacques.”

“No. Simon is.”

Bram slams the door in his face.

 

 

-

 

“I wanna take you somewhere,” Nick says as soon as Cal opens the door, and Cal feels his face flush.

“Now?”

“Now,” Nick confirms, then holds out his sweatshirt, which he’s been holding this whole time, as if he’s just been waiting to -

“For you.”

_ Oh _ . Cal’s heart flutters.

He smiles and takes the sweatshirt with trembling hands, slipping it on. Then he climbs in the passenger seat of Nick’s pick-up truck.

“Where are we going?” He asks, and Nick just smiles.

“It’s a three hour drive, so get settled in.”

Cal grins and threads their fingers together over the console. It’s a bold move for him, and he has a boyfriend, but for now, he’s not thinking about Simon. Just the fact that he loves Nick, and Nick loves him (he’s even said so, once).

The car ride is silent. At least, until Nick pulls over to the side of the empty road in the middle of nowhere and turns to face Cal.

“So, where does Simon think you are today?”

“Home. In my defense, he’s probably at Bram’s. Where do your parents think you are?”

Nick doesn’t answer. Cal sighs.

“Nick.”

“They know I’m with you.”

“But not what I am to you.”

Nick explodes at that, wrenching his fingers from Cal’s. “Oh, come on, Cal! I’m nothing to you! You explained that to me quite clearly when I told you that I -”

He cuts himself off and looks down at his hands. Cal reaches over and takes them in his own, “Look at me.”

Nick does.

“You can’t even say it. That’s why you think you’re nothing to me, why we’re not dating. Because you can’t admit you love me.”

“I did,” Nick insists, voice strained. “I told you I - you know, the day you basically broke up with me -”

“We were never together. That’s why you’re so scared, that’s why you won’t admit it. You’re  _ afraid _ of what it would mean to date me. To date a boy.”

Nick is silent. Cal leans over the console and kisses Nick’s hair, and Nick turns his head so Cal can kiss him on the mouth.

“Do you want to know what it’s like? To date a boy? To date me?”

Nick doesn’t answer right away, but Cal has been loving him for a year. He can wait a little longer.

Finally, Nick nods. Cal smiles.

“Then take me to this place you’ve planned. I’ll hold your hand and kiss you, and we’ll act like a real couple, but no one you know will be there to watch. You’ll see just how much it matters to the rest of the world that you’re in love with me.”

Nick says nothing, but Cal can see emotion shutter in his eyes. Cal smiles and kisses Nick again, “And yes, just how much it matters to them that I’m in love with you.”

 

 

-

 

Abby is back behind the school again. Just a cigarette this time, no meth, so she’s okay. Well, not okay, but you know.

Then, Taylor’s there, in front of her and blank-faced, and Abby is confused. She kissed Taylor, just awhile ago, and hasn’t seen her since, so why’s she here now? Abby fucked everything up for a reason; Taylor being here could ruin all she’s worked so hard for. This precarious, smidge above contentedness that Abby’s gotten to.

“What’re you doing here?”

It comes out harsher than she means, but then again, maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe then, Taylor will go away.

But she doesn’t. Instead, she grins, and reaches out to thread her fingers through Abby’s. Abby doesn’t move, but she feels like she should. Physical affection makes you attached to people -

“Don’t touch me.”

She wrenches her hand away, and Taylor looks hurt for a split second, then shrugs it off. “Come on. I’m taking you on a date.”

Abby freezes. She used to do this whenever cute girls talked to her, but now it’s just around Taylor. I mean, Taylor is pretty -

_ No, shut up. Just stop right there, Abby. You can’t get yourself into this again, _ she tells herself.  _ Not after what happened to your parents. _

“Why?”

It sounds accusing. Suspicious. But honestly, Abby doesn’t understand. The old her, maybe - loud and friendly and a cheerleader, that’s somebody who others might go after. But the new her, the one who smokes and gets drugs from her brother’s girlfriend, that isn’t somebody someone as amazing as Taylor should want.

“Because I like you,” Taylor answers simply, and if that doesn’t just baffle Abby even more. “And I want to help you. So, I’m getting you away from all this for awhile. We can go anywhere you want, do anything you want. The only condition is, you can’t do drugs or smoke the entire time.”

Sounds like a fair deal. It won’t work, won’t get Abby to stop buying meth in exchange for her brother’s secrets and a couple of her mom’s dollar bills, but it might distract her for awhile.

And she’s always been selfish and weak, anyway.

“Alright,” she shrugs, and lets the cigarette drop from her lips, crushing it beneath the sole of her converse. “Let’s go.”

Taylor beams and this time, when she takes Abby’s hand, Abby doesn’t pull away.

She might as well, at least,  _ try _ trusting someone.

 

 

-

 

Garrett’s hanging out with Bram when he gets the call. More accurately, Bram is sleeping with his head on Garrett’s stomach and his algebra homework in his hand, and Garrett is scrolling through all of Blue and Jacques’ emails. Signed with love and pretty serious, from what Garrett can tell. But still, if Cal was right, then all Bram’s doing is digging himself even deeper into the grave he’s made for himself. Falling in love with someone once is one thing, but twice is a whole other ordeal.

But anyway. The call.

“Hey, Lee. What’s up?”

“Are you Garrett? Leah’s boyfriend?”

“Is that what she calls me? Yeah, I am.”

“Hi. I’m Leah’s mom. I just wanted to call you, because you’re in her emergency contacts and all -”

“I’m in her emergency contacts? No, wait. There was an emergency? Is she okay?”

By this time, he’s sitting up, and Bram is blinking groggily at him with those wide brown puppy eyes. But now, Garrett’s just worried about Leah. His girlfriend. Who is apparently okay with that title.

“What happened?”

“Well, sweetie, she passed out in the middle of dinner and we found out that she hasn’t been eating. Did you know that?”

Garrett feels his stomach hollow out with dread and his face pales. “No.”

Suddenly he’s up and running out the door as Leah’s mom finishes prattling off the hospital name, and he speeds down the road and arrives in five minutes tops.

He bursts through the doors and right to the nurse at the front desk, blurting, “Where’s Leah?”

She looks up with wide eyes, startled, and says, “What?”

Garrett makes a low noise in his throat. She’s taking too long, she should know, where’s his Leah…

“Garrett? Sweetie, Leah’s this way.”

Garrett looks up and sees a tall brunette woman. She’s beckoning him over, and so he rushes towards her and follows her down the hall to Room 815.

Leah’s mom, he assumes, lets him inside and he immediately falls into the chair by Leah’s bed.

Her mother follows, each of them clutching one of Leah’s hands like a lifeline.

“A bit of an unconventional first meeting, huh, Garrett?” her mom whispers. “Never thought I’d shake hands with her boyfriend in a hospital. Certainly never wanted to.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on her face, and Garrett chuckles. It’s all soft and muted, like some horrible dream, and with the hand that’s not holding Leah’s, he pinches his arm.

“Well, I’m glad to meet you anyway,” he says genuinely. “I love her. And I’m honored.”

Leah’s mother laughs, a husky, beautiful sound that matches Leah’s so well it throws Garrett for a loop.

“You too,” she says. “When she wakes up, I hope you’ll be here.”

Garrett smiles. He knows she means in the morning, tomorrow and today and yesterday and every day that comes after, not whenever her painkillers are withdrawn.

And he is, waking up alone by Leah’s bedside after a rough night of tossing and turning that he wouldn’t trade for a million dreamless sleeps without her.

“Hey, Lee,” he whispers, reaching out and grasping her hand in both of his. It’s so small, her fingers so thin, and he’s just noticing now. He wants to kill himself for not realizing what was going on, all those times she cancelled their dinner dates, saying she wasn’t hungry. Did she not feel beautiful enough? Did he not tell her she was, enough? God, what’s he done wrong? How many things? How many times?

He should’ve said something. Anything.

Leah shifts on the bed and groans, opening her eyes. She turns her head on the pillows and smiles at him, drowsy with glazed-over eyes, like someone who’s just woken up from a good dream.

“Hi, Garrett,” she rasps, and coughs. His eyes find the glass on the nightstand and he hands her the water, which she gulps down greedily.

“God,” she says, struggling to sit up. He puts a hand on her back and helps her, then wraps his fingers back around hers. “What’d I do this time?”

She looks up and her frowning brown eyes meet his. She seems angry at herself. “Did Mom tell you to come here?”

At that, Garrett lets the tears fall, unable to hold them in any longer.

Because the girl he loves doesn’t know he loves her enough to come to the hospital when she’s sick, let alone to burn down worlds in her name.

 

 

-

 

Bram hasn’t emailed Jacques in days. His phone’s blowing up, with about ten emails of most likely frantic apologies for nothing and lots of guilty “what’d I do wrong”’s that are just so  _ Simon _ , and Bram can’t handle it. He shouldn’t be surprised, though, it’s just his luck to fall for the same person twice.

But whatever. He needs to get over it, because he does still need an A on that English project. So he gets up, yawns, and decides to say fuck it and worry about Garrett and his own wellbeing later.

He drives to the school, though it’s about 10:15 at night, and he probably shouldn’t be out. He gets in through the back, which is never locked, thanks to Martha Gabes, who in ninth grade had somehow broken the padlock. Bram doesn’t know how, but for now, it doesn’t really matter. The point is, he’s inside.

He walks up the stairs to Mr. Wise’s classroom and pulls out a few books, then sits criss-cross in the corner behind the teacher’s big wooden desk and reads for three hours before the words start to blur and he realizes he should probably go home.

But instead he pulls out his phone, because he’s delirious and tired and sad, and dials Simon’s number.

_ Leave a message. _ He intends to.

“Uh, h-hey. I just, uh, wanted to tell you, that, uh, I,” he stutters, then sucks in a breath and tries to beat back the tears, unsuccessfully. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, starting again.

“Um, I love how you paint your nails yellow because it makes you feel better? And I, uh, I love that you let Leah doodle on your arms. And I… I love when you buy me those camp bracelets and make boy-friendship ones for me and that day when you painted flowers on my cheeks while I was sleeping.”

And he knows he’s not actually talking to anyone but a receiver, but he still clears his throat nervously. “I love your moon-grey eyes.”

A pause. Then a whisper.

“Um. I love you.”

There’s a beep. His message has been recorded and sent. Bram wipes at his eyes and stands up, stuffing his phone back in his pocket.

He drives home listening to “Waltz #2”.

 

 

-

 

It’s late at night when Simon gets his ex-boyfriend’s message.

The grey-eyed boy bursts into tears as soon as the first “I love…” escapes Bram’s lips and cries heavily through the rest of it, his face a mess of snot and tears by the end.

Simon misses Bram. He misses their talks and their fights and their kisses. He misses their nights and their hand games and their emails.

He keeps telling himself that it’s not worth it. That they were falling apart long before they broke up. That things were never going to work out anyway. That everybody falls in love and everybody breaks hearts and gets their heart broken and everybody moves on.

He keeps telling himself that it’s over, that it’s done now, that it’s long gone, because they broke up and they broke up badly but lying on his bed crying and listening to how much Bram loves him, Simon can’t remember why.

 

 

-

 

Leah will get better, they say. She will. The doctors have faith in her.

And so does Garrett, too many I love you’s on his lips that kiss hers, because he needs her to stay alive and healthy long enough for him to tell her how much he loves her.

He ignores the fact that it’s impossible, calling it a good thing, because no one lives forever and that’s how long he’ll need.

 

-

 

Bram hates staying after school for projects, but that’s how it has to be sometimes. He’s both glad and disappointed that Simon isn’t here, because he loves Simon, loves him a lot, but at the same time that means it hurts to be around him.

The school’s empty. There’s no one around except him, which is why he does a double take when he hears footsteps, but no, they’re definitely there.

Sounds like the person’s running -

The door bangs open and Bram jumps in surprise. There’s Simon, disheveled and panting and red in the face, but when he sees Bram he smiles.

“What are you doing here?” Bram rasps, and he means at school, what are you doing at school, but instead it comes out like _with me_ , what are you doing here _with me_.

And Simon beams. Like the sun coming out after a rainstorm, his strides long and determined as he crosses the room, right in front of Bram in less than a minute.

“I just realized,” Simon says, breathless, his hands reaching up to cup Bram’s face, “that I am in love with you. And that nothing else really matters.”

And then Simon kisses him and Bram forgets how to breathe, but it’s a good ache in his chest this time.

 

-

 

In the morning, Simon holds Bram’s hand as they walk down the hall.

Cal smiles at them.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! thank you for reading!!
> 
> have a great day guys!!!
> 
> :) :) :) :) :) :) :)


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